


Long Time No See

by queenofworry



Category: Far Cry 5, Far Cry: New Dawn
Genre: Angst, F/M, Just a drabble, Lots of flashbacking, Violence, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 09:23:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17404280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofworry/pseuds/queenofworry
Summary: Just a oneshot based on the theory that the Masked Gun For Hire may be Rook/The Deputy. She wanders the post apocalyptic Hope County, knowing that this is all her fault.





	Long Time No See

No Face. From that old movie, Spirited Away; that’s what she thought of every time she caught the reflection of that Jason Voorhees-like mask she adopted a while ago. For months, she walked like a zombie across the fields and patches of land that had a bite taken out of them by the bombs. Nobody she crossed along her trek actually knew who she was, used to be....should they anyways? She was just a young rookie when this cesspool that used to be Hope County went down the drain; so young in fact, that even though almost two decades since the Collapse came to be, she was only pushing the age of her early 40s. Literally, she was 39 years old now. Or at least she thought she was; the calendar in Dutch’s bunker was only used for the year of 2018, so she really didn’t know for sure exactly how many birthdays passed. Didn’t matter. The only thing about her that mattered now, was staying alive, like, screw her identity, her age; she tried, didn’t she? Almost two decades ago, she tried to save these people from that freaking cult...Project At Eden’s Gate...now those were the days. 

As her dust coated boots approached what looked like it used to be the Lamb Of God Church, she flashed back hard. The white steepled building was overgrown in deep green vegetation and sprinkled in a peppering of magenta flowers; even when it was abandoned, it was beautiful. May as well rest here for right now, maybe get out of the sun for a while. It took a bit of elbow grease, but when using her body weight, she managed to bust the front door open and slightly trip inside. The ceiling had vines and flowers from the outside growing into the worn down boards, giving the interior a curtain of nature.   
When she first came across this place a long time ago, she met one of her best friends, Grace. Grace Armstrong, the army veteran. She was sitting in the chruch bell tower, sniping Peggies off one by one and had recruited this now masked figure to help her defend the heroes’ graves in the front; which by the way, were still standing. They were coated in moss, but they were still there to this very day.

No. No more reminiscing right now. The unnamed woman began to loot for any supplies lying around; blasting caps, hunting magazines, fasteners--anything! Her ammo bag was just as barren as her stomach, and both needed to be at least topped off. Both of her gloved hands desperately opened the faded black trunk placed by the old pulpit, and hungrily searched for supplies. C’mon, c’mon, there had to be something...yes, to her relief, a few smoke grenades. They weren’t much, but nowadays, anything helped; she remembered looting this place back then, and used to think these buildings looked like Apocalypse rejects. She could probably speak for anyone in this old county that they missed the days when Eden’s Gate had control. At least in that time, food wasn’t as rare as an oil well, and some people still had houses to shelter in. Now? You’d be lucky to find any damaged bear meat lying in the middle of the road. 

As she placed the items in her bag, the whole building creaked so badly, it echoed with its own brand of arthritis. She couldn’t stay here, no way, not safe. Tiredly sighing through her mask, she forced her tired feet out the side door and kept on looking for the next place she could find things to ensure some kind of survival. That was her life now: loot and rest, loot and rest. When she signed up to be the next junior deputy, she thought she was signing up for putting away criminals all day and then going home at the end of the day. The more she walked, the more she went back in time with her mind; she shouldn’t have listened to the Marshall, she should have refused to cuff that psychotic, mind twisting Joseph Seed.

 

This was all her fault…completely. But she swore, she didn’t know that Joseph Seed really had something when he said the Collapse was coming. Had she known, she would have dropped those cuffs and quit her job right there at the cult’s compound but it was way too late for that. When she was a kid in middle school, she scoffed when her teacher sent his class off into the next year with the statement of history eventually repeating itself.

But just like Seed, she was proven horribly wrong the hard way. 

After the helicopter went down, she and the federal marshall drove for their lives in a stolen truck and crashed it off the Henbane River bridge. While her teammate was kidnapped, she was carried off to and old bunker by Dutch, aka, the man she would have loved to have as that crazy uncle everybody misunderstands. Then, when she went to face Joseph one more time at his compound, he still gained the upper hand, and just like before, she and her fellow cops drove off in a truck, swerving out of the way of burning trees and animals frying from the mushroom cloud not far from them.

They all could have made it too, had she seen that tree. 

In a split second, a burning pine crashed in their view and sent the sheriff, who was riding shotgun flying through the windshield, killing him instantly. As for Hudson and Pratt in the backseat, well she thought they could have survived, but she never got the chance to see. Because after the crash, she was too close to unconsciousness to even l  
sit up; not like she would have had the chance anyway. Just like he always did, Joseph Seed managed to escape the site barely scathed. And he used that opportunity to pull her out of the car that was on the verge of combusting. His lean, tattooed arms held and carried her with ease back to Dutch’s bunker, but sadly Dutch wouldn’t be joining them.

The young rookie awoke handcuffed to the end of the bedpost. She was sitting on the cold, concrete floor, and was met by the sight of Dutch’s corpse lying lifeless between her and Joseph, who was standing at the radio as if nothing happened. For a moment, she thought for sure he’d end her right then and there for trying to silence his ‘prophecy’ and for murdering his brothers and sister. But to her horrifying truth, she found him saying that she would still be very much alive because she was all he had left. Hated to admit he was right once again, but all they had was each other now...the man known as the Father, and his ‘child’, taking on one day at a time as they waited for the earth to be cleansed. Though he kept his word at keeping her alive, she found one day she’d wished she died in that car wreck.

One cut for each of his children. And one mutilating scar for each sibling of his she’d killed. 

That’s why she adapted that new disguise. Because she failed Hope County; she deserved to be forgotten and because of what he did to her. 

A while later into her search, she came across a pond, and found herself dropping to her knees at the sight. How long it’d been since she found any water...oh how she missed fresh water. She’d give anything for the chance to take a five minute shower, and be sent away with at least one bottle of it for drinking. Speaking of drinking, she needed to slurp a bit of this now. Didn’t know for sure if this water wasn’t even safe to ingest, since it was exposed to any radioactive surges, but if it killed her, who cares? Not her.

She turned one more time to make sure that no one else was around, and saw a small town in the distance. By the looks of it, it seemed as if it may have been what was once known as the town of Prosperity. She remembered going there a long time ago to try these new steroids designed by a crackhead named Tweak. How about that? The creepy little ghost town, Prosperity sat behind a wall and was obviously populated with many survivors. Maybe they’d let her stay the night; for the most part, she slept wherever she could and stole the vehicles from her unsuspecting victims. She wasn’t heartless though. She only killed those sorry scavengers known as Highway Men; all they did was take. So, even though she couldn’t be The Deputy anymore, she could be Karma, and everyone knew what a bitch Karma was.

Slowly, she removed the mask. And cupped both her hands, allowing those dry lips to cool off as they slurped it down; after a few more handfuls of drinking water, she splashed some of it on her face, rubbing the crusted sweat and dirt away. This was the cleanest she’d been in months, but it was better than nothing. As she put her facial disguise back on, the sound of footsteps right behind her made her hold still as a mannequin. Was this a Highway Man? An innocent survivor?

“Stay right where you are.” It commanded. 

She was too focused on the threat, to notice the voice’s familiarity, but gently and slowly raised both hands where they could be seen. The figure stepped to her side, keeping what felt like the tip of a flamethrower to the side of her head and knelt down to snatch away her supply bag. As it stepped behind her again, it barked more orders.

“Now get up and face me.”

She obeyed again, but did it reluctantly. Once she faced him, it went downhill fast. Gosh, he looked so familiar...had they met?

“Now, tell me who you are and what you’re doing here.” He said.

Now that’s where she took the wheel. She never spoke to anyone, she hadn’t said a word since escaping Joseph. When she saved a civilian, she only stared for a moment, and then left without saying a word. When it was a Highway Man, she made their deaths quick, and went on with her life. So, just as she always did when it came to verbally interacting, she became defiant. Instead, she stood there, hands up, but ready for a fight.

“What’sa matter, you muted or something?” The twanged, aged voice asked.

Not a word.

“Hey, if I don’t get a response, I’ll just drop you right here!” The man yelled.

Quiet as a mouse.

“Alright, that’s it!”

As he lit the flamethrower, she flung a throwing knife. Both parties tried to jump out of the way, but got hit good. The knife ended up in his leg, and as he groaned in pain, the ex deputy screeched as she saw her clothing on fire, but quickly allowed herself to fall backwards into the pond to put the flames out. Her assailant ripped the knife from his limb and welded an arm around her neck from behind while she was disoriented, and held it to her throat.

No, no not a knife to the throat, anything but that. Her mind immediately flashed back to Joseph’s revenge, and like a threatened animal, she flung him off hard and swiveled back around, landing a hard punch on the side of his face. For an old man, he recovered quickly and retaliated by grabbing that mask, and yanking it from her face. 

The sunlight was blinding since she’d been so accustomed to keeping her face in the dark.

When their eyes met, both froze. Each sight more bewildering to each other.

The man saw a woman’s face he once knew. Her face striped with a large gash that stretched from her cheek, up to the bridge of her nose. Whatever flesh remained looked burnt and cut. These wounds were old...someone did this to her.

What did she see? A 50-something year old face, slightly wrinked, eyebrows greyish, and a confirmed flamethrower in his hands.

“Rook?” he asked.

“Sharky Boshaw, the human cockroach.” she responded.

That nickname was not one of disdain, but one of noting his inexplicable ability to take a literal blow. When they fought side by side, there was almost nothing he couldn’t get up from.

“Girl, your face...what happened?”

“Joseph Seed is what happened.”

Right then and there, they both felt something they never thought would happen...a new chance, approaching. Maybe, just maybe there was some new hope, a new dawn for Hope County...


End file.
